Her Escape
by breathoffreshair
Summary: You can ran, but you can never hide . . . [a dark story. . .be warned] Rated PG-13 but might get worse, in fact probably will. I'm sure y'all can figure out who the character is.
1. Hitting The Limit

She ran into the bathroom. The girls at the sinks with their make-up bags and lipsticks in hand turned to stare at her stringy hair and her bony arms. But she didn't care. Why should she care? They were just a bunch of shit-brains. Like the rest of them. Like everybody. Everyone in this fucking town was warped. _Except him. _Her upper lip sneered as she thought of him. _Him. _He wasn't even worthy of her thoughts. He had never been worthy of her thoughts. She didn't even know why she was thinking of him now. _Of course you know why . . ._ . .

She pushed open a door, slamming it against the wall as she did so; she stumbled in, fumbling for the lock behind her. She slid to the ground, the cold, hard bathroom tiles greeting her. She ran her hands across the floor, grateful for the coolness. _Let me in . . ._ She raised her hands to her head, shaking it violently, almost demonically, before rising up once again, and turning to the mirror that was placed on the side. Damn them, with their stupid mirrors inside their toilets. She looked into the mirror, running her hands over it. A person unrecognisable stared back at her with sunken eyes, bags almost black underneath them. Greasy dark hair surrounded her face, hanging in clumps around her bony features. Lips that were chapped and sore, cheeks that made her cheekbones stand out far, almost scarily. A huge blue and yellow bruise was forming on the left side of her face; a blood-encrusted cut ran down the other side. She would get them back for this. As they say, revenge is sweet, oh so sweet. _It doesn't have to be. _Oh, but it did. Nothing could EVER compare to what she had been through. She had been to hell, and she had stayed there, only still living, she didn't want to be. Is _that_ what she really wanted to be? Dead. Dead to the world, anyway. _Dead to him._ It's what he deserves. He never cared. But then again, why should he? She didn't. She never had, she never would, she would never even think of him again. _Stop kidding yourself . . ._ In a scream of frustration she smashed her weak fist against the ugly reflection, the mirror shattering as the pieces cracked all around her. She withdrew her bloodied fist, wrapping the nearest piece of material she could find around it, which happened to be her t-shirt. She nearly cried out in pain, but refrained. After all, it wasn't as if she hadn't done it before. Her t-shirt was pulled done as she wrapped her fist tighter around it. Faded scars appeared all over her chest and arms, as well as newer ones on her wrists. _Escape . . . Go on . . . Run away . . . Like you always do. _Her vision blurred as she reached into her jeans pocket, pulling out her escape.

Her sharp escape. Her sharp metal escape. Her escape would never be taken away from her, unlike other things she didn't care to mention. Her escape was _hers. _And it always would be . . . . .

To be continued ……………………………? R&R


	2. All You Need To Do Is Breathe

Marissa checked her hair in the mirror in her locker, then slammed the locker door shut just a little too violently. She smoothed down her denim jeans, straightening out her t-shirt, and began walking to class.

"Hey, Coop!" Summer called from the other end of the corridor, rushing to keep up with her in her 5-inch stilettos. "Wait up!" Marissa turned around, waiting impatiently.

"Sum, how long does it take you to change your t-shirt?" Marissa asked, beginning to walk again. "And why do you bring a spare t-shirt anyway?"

"Um, hello! Just had double P.E., I was like so sweaty, it just, ew." Summer replied quickly, looking over at Marissa. "Anyway, you can't talk! I don't remember you wearing your Juicy Couture top this morning?" Summer smiled triumphantly. Marissa looked down at herself, and blushed.

"Yeah, well you know, have to keep up appearances." Marissa smiled slightly as she looked at Summer, and knew she was going to hit back with a witty response.

"Who are you? Paris Hilton?" Summer laughed as she walked through the door to the Science room. Marissa looked at her weirdly, then sat down immediately right at the back.

"And who are you? Slut of the century?" Marissa muttered underneath her breath and Summer sat down next to her, getting out her compact mirror. Summer looked up.

"Sorry? What was that?" She asked, grabbing her black mascara and reapplying it, looking in her purple compact mirror

"Oh, nothing, I was just thinking about something." Marissa flashed Summer a smile. Summer looked over, and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay, you know that right?" Summer said in a quieter voice, pulling Marissa into a hug. She pulled back and looked her in the eye. "Right?" Marissa nodded, before withdrawing herself and folding her arms around herself, gazing vacantly into space. Summer looked at her friend, and sighed, knowing nothing she could say or do would make her feel any better. She thought of Seth, and Ryan and felt a small tear run down her cheek, smudging the mascara she had just applied.

-

Breathe. One, two, three, four. Breathe. One, two, three, four. Breathe. The tubes which were coming from his mouth stuck in his throat and he felt like gagging. The drip was stuck in his hand, and his body felt numb. Where the hell was he? Bright white lights glared in his eyes, and beeping sounded all around him, ringing in his ears. He looked across and saw his heart beat monitor, panicking. He tried to cry out, but no voice would come, and he tried to move, but he couldn't feel his feet. His breathing pattern became erratic, and the heart beat monitor moved abnormally faster. His tube was getting blocked up, his tonsils were killing him. He began to choke, choking on his own spit that had clogged up in his breathing tube. He grabbed into the bed rail, shaking the bed to attract attention. _Help. . . HELP ME! _He tried one last time to shout out, but he failed. Giving up, he felt the pain ease as his eyes slowly blacked out and his bruised eyelids drooped.

-


	3. Putting The Pieces Together

Summer pulled her new silver BMW convertible into the nearest space in the crowded parking lot. She took the key out of the engine and flipped the mirror down to check her hair.

"God, get a grip!" Summer thought, slamming the mirror back up. She sat in her seat for a few more minutes, composing herself. She reached down and found her purse, checking her phone. The screen was flashing. One missed call. Summer flipped it up, and to her '_surprise_' it was Coop. She quickly flipped it back down again, not needing to deal with Marissa right now. She took in one shaky breath, and got out of the car, flicking her key so her car locked behind her. Sliding her sunglasses on, she took a cautious look at the sign that loomed in front of her. Newport General Hospital glared down at her, the black shiny letters glinting in the California sunshine. Summer carried on walking through the automatic doors, her high heels now clacking on the linoleum that coated the floor. She stood in the foyer, shivering slightly as the cold air hit her through the vent. Distressed eyes turned to look at her, as if she had interrupted the eternal silence that was the hospital waiting room. She wrapped her arms around herself, and walked straight up to the Reception. An overweight woman with a badge that stated her name was 'Mrs. Palmer', sat there reading some romance novel, practically asleep. Summer tapped the glass lightly, wincing at the sound it made. The woman looked up, and gave her a dirty look, before sliding the window back.

"Can I help you?" The woman drawled in a deep southern accent, eyebrows raised. She looked the girl up and down, wondering why she was here. Maybe she was here to see her sick brother? Father, maybe even boyfriend. She seemed to be having an inner battle with herself, which wasn't new to the Receptionist at Newport General. Ol' Mrs Palmer had a steady supply of tissues in her cupboard if things didn't go so well. You had to have a hard heart to work at this hospital.

"I'm here to visit Ryan Atwood." Summer managed to choke out finally, finally taking her sunglasses off. Mrs Palmer swivelled around in her chair, tapping painfully slowly at the old computer. Several beeps were emitted, and Mrs Palmer began to shake her head.

"I'm sorry, but we don't have a Ryan Atwood at this hospital." Mrs Palmer said, croakily coughing from the amount of cigarettes she smoked during her lunch break that day. "Never have, and hopefully never will." Summer gripped the wall tightly.

"Are you sure?" Summer asked, through tightly clenched teeth. Thoughts were running through her head. _She couldn't do this…could she? . . . She couldn't have been so **damn stupid . . Oh God. . .**_

****"Yes, I'm sorry, miss." Mrs Palmer replied, shaking her head, and scrolling down the page once more. "Maybe you have the wrong hospital . ." But Summer had tuned her out. . . she brought a hand up to her head which was suddenly aching. . .the thought ran threw her head again . . ._She couldn't do this . . ._and she felt her knees buckle under her, as her body crumpled to the floor.


	4. Blacked out, but why?

"Miss? Excuse me, Miss?" Summer opened her brown eyes wearily as they adjusted to the bright light of strip lights above her head. She sat up quickly, but then laid back down again as she felt the pain in her stomach.

"Miss, can you hear me?" The voice became irritating as it rattled on. Summer looked up to the doctor who was hovering over her. She placed a hand on her head, feeling the beads of sweat trickle over her newly manicured hand.

"Yes, yes I can." She replied, practically whispering. "What the hell am I doing in here?" The doctor shook his head as he perched on the edge of her bed, wooden clipboard in hand.

"I'm afraid we have some bad news, Miss Roberts. . ." The doctors droning voice was tuned out by a buzzing in Summer's head, and she felt the dull pain return in her brain, pounding at every breath she took. Her mind swirled as she began shaking against the hospital bed, now completely blacked out. She was vaguely aware of the doctor shouting for help, but it was too late now. She began shaking violently as tears ran down her cheeks, falling to the floor. She pounded her head against the cold, hard floor, anything to get rid of the immense pain. Summer rose up, and screamed at the ceiling…What the hell was happening to her? She drew a deep breath, and fell to the floor again, panting. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she fainted once again, world blacking out like the priest closing a coffin. Her mind swirled, and somehow her hand managed to drag herself back on to the cold, hard bed, so she could pass out in dignity.

"_Summer, are you home?" A 10 year old Summer lay curled up underneath her bed, shivering and breathing fast. "Summy!" She could hear him shouting up the stairs and shut her eyes tightly, pretending this was all a nightmare. It's only a nightmare, that's what mummy used to say. Just a nightmare . . .a terribly real, cold nightmare. The mattress springs were digging into her brown-haired head. She could feel the sweat dripping down the side near her temple, and inside her heart was clenched. SUMMER!" She started shaking uncontrollably. Footsteps pounded on the wooden staircase and Summer heard a strong hand grip the doorknob. The door opened, banged onto the wall, nearly pulling it off of its hinges, and long, heavy footsteps banged into the carpeted floor. She began praying . .Please . . .help me Mummy . . Why did you leave, Mummy? You said you would never let anything hurt me . . . .She peeped out, and was greeted by a pair of stone-cold blue eyes. She tried to scream, but his calloused, rough hand grabbed her face, stopping her. He slapped her hard, seeming to get evil joy out of it. Again, again, again until her face was so numb she couldn't even feel it, but she knew she would have to creep into mummy's bathroom in the morning to use her make-up to cover-up the red weal that would be left. He withdrew his hand, and sneered in her face. _

_"Where's Mummy now, my pretty little baby? Huh, where is she? WHERE IS SHE?" He shook her head, bashing it against the hard metal of the bed frame. He grabbed her hair and tied it to the post, her face scrunched up in pain, face jerked back as he secured the knot. She turned away holding her head in her hands. "Hey, LOOK AT ME, look at me when I am talking you little bitch! She ain't coming back! She ain't coming back." He sneered his upper lip at her, jeering at her, squeezing her face. _

_"Who are you gonna run too now? WHO? No-one loves you, Summer! They all HATE you. And its all YOUR fault. Your fault you little slut!" His face was next to hers, and she could smell gin on his breath, the alcohol affecting her. He punched her in the stomach, and she doubled over. _

_"Did that hurt? Does widdle Summer need her mommy!" He taunted her, using his strength against her. She began to scream as he choked her throat, grabbing his hand to try and pull it off. "What do you say, Summer? Pwetty pwees? Say it! SAY IT!" She was crying, the tears affecting her vision. "Leave … leave me… alone." She whispered, her vocal chords hurting as she tried to speak. "Leave me alone! LEAVE ME! LEAVE ME ALONE . . . ."_

A/N:ok, that was pretty intense. I'm really sorry I haven't updated in ages, but I have been really busy. I wasn't planning on updating, but then I thought of this really good twist to the story, and I HAD to write it….once again R&R


	5. Deadbeat

A/N: So next chapter, kinda short, but I hope it dosen't suck too much. Hopefully it provides a little bitmore information about the plot.Flashbacks are in italics, apart from the song lyrics. I hope I picked the right song for this chapter, I wasn't sure which one to choose and I went through several!Anyways, read and Review.

* * *

Marissa looked at her phone, and chucked it across the room when she saw Summer hadn't phoned back. 

"Bitch." She muttered under her breath, and got up off of her bed, and went over to her stereo, turning it on, pumping the volume to full blast. At least that was something to drown out all her hatred.Which was a hard thing to drown out these days. She flicked through the stations until something she felt was good came on. Finally settling on one, sheturned it up one notch higher. Green Days "Deadbeat Holiday"poured out of the speakers, vibrating and echoing around the huge empty mansion she now called 'home.' Nodding her head to the beat, the song started.

_Wake up, The house is on fire  
And the cat's caught in the dryer  
Philiosophy's a liar when  
Your home is your headstone _

Walking over to her shelves, she looked at all the photos she had collected over the past few years. Most of them were with Summer, Ryan and Seth. Most were with Ryan. Her heart shot a stab of pain through her body as she looked at one from last year. Seth had taken it on the beach, when they were cuddled up together in the sunset. She sighed, and turned away, remembering there was no such thing as heroes.

_'Icon' is the last chance for hope  
When there's no such thing as **heroes**  
Your faith lies in the ditch that  
You dug yourself in_

"The fucking Fantastic Four…." Marissa shook her head mockingly at her own words, and slipped one of the photos out of its frame, scrunching it up and tossing it in her wastepaper bin. It landed perfectly in the bottom, and she guessed all those years of tennis training her mother had forced her to go paid off. She turned to the frame and smashed it into perfect pieces.

_Last chance to piss it all away  
Nothing but hell to pay  
When the lights are going down_

Nothing ever went right in Marissa Cooper's life. Her family, her love life, even she was a screw-up. The only thing she excelled in was her school-work. Charity chair, Social league were just a few of the accomplishments Dr. Kim had promised would look good when she applied for college. Which would be next year. She groaned again, and turned her stereo up eevn louder.

_Deadbeat Holiday, celebrate your own decay  
There's a vacant sign that's hanging high  
On a noose over your home_

She knew she had to be strong after everything that had happened. But the trouble was, she didn't know whether she would be able to. She was at a loose end permanently, like a rope fraying. She was a bomb just sitting there ticking in the corner, waiting to explode.

_Deadbeat Holiday, get on your knees and pray  
There's a vacant sign that's hanging high  
But at least you're not alone  
Christmas lights in the middle of August  
Grudges come back to haunt us_

Marissa Cooper held grudges. She held them for as long as it would take to get what she wanted. That wasn't normally a long time. At least, it never used to be. Life when she was in a functional family was a distant memory. Her dad had left her, for what? To be a better dad? Where was he when she needed him? Where was anyone where she needed them?

_Your oldest allies are your long lost enemies  
Grounded in a duplex to find that  
You're living on a landmine  
Vacation hotspots is a cemetery drive  
_  
Summer wasn't much help. She put on a strong face for Marissa, but even Marissa could see past the make-up pasted on mask. Summer was always the sensible one in the girls friendship, and Marissa was even slightly jealous of her. Summer was always the one who got the guys, who was more popular, who had a better figure, prettier looks. At least, that's what Marissa thought.

_Last chance to piss it all away  
Nothing but hell to pay  
When the lights are going down _

She sat back on the bed, not knowing what to do with herself. Tapping her fingers on the bedside table, she heard her phone suddenly ring. She quickly got up off the bed, and ran to where it had landed. Marissa looked at the screen, Private Number was displayed. She frowned but flipped it up anyway.

"Hello?"

"Marissa?"

"Erm…yeah. Who is this?" She asked, waiting for someone to answer her. Instead the line crackled, and she had to repeat herself. "Hello?"

"Its…Ryan." Marissa took a sharp intake of breath, sitting back down on her bed.

"Ryan? Ryan…Atwood?" Marissa asked, shakily, picking a piece of thread that hung down from her jeans. A slight laugh was heard from the other end.

"How many other Ryan's do you know, Riss?" Marissa gave a slight smile, happy to hear he was at least…laughing.

"Erm.. none, I guess." Marissa replied, shrugging. Ryan stood at the other end, leaning against a hard wall.

"So, how are you?" Ryan asked, calmly under all the circumstances. "I mean, how have you been after.."

Marissa quickly cut him off, not wanting to think about _that._ "I'm fine, everything's fine." A loud shout could be heard, and the slamming of something against something. "Where are you, I can hear shouting?"

Ryan paused, "Where am I?"

Marissa stopped talking for a minute, expectantly waiting for an answer. When none came, she replied. "Yes, where are you?"

"I'm in prison."

_Last chance to piss it all away  
Nothing but hell to pay whan all you  
Want to do is...not to...give up..._

* * *

_"I can't!" _

_"You have too….!"_

_"I told you , I CAN'T!" _

_A piercing scream was heard for a short moment, and then silence reigned in the darkness._

* * *

The temperature was high, and he could smell the rank odour of seat drift aboutthe buildings. He leant back onto the wall, sitting on the stone-like mattress. The person opposite was asleep, and was snoring loudly. Looking at the wall opposite, he caught sight of the clock, and sighed. 

"Atwood?" Ryan looked up from his bed suddenly, and through the bars. The officer took that as a reply, and got out his thick ring of keys. Unlocking the door, scraping it into the metal lock. The door was opened, and Ryan stood up.

"You got a visitor."

* * *

_A whisper broke the eternal silence, and she jumped, turning to see who it was. Searching through the darkness, she couldn't quite make the figure out. . . ._


End file.
